“Alaya, boop. If you’re hearing this, if you’re seeing this message. Something happened to me. Probably something bad. I hope you’re happy my little boop. I hope you’re doing something brave and brilliant. I know you are.” Mother spoke, each word a needle driven into Alaya’s little heart. Father had his hand around her waist and he spoke.

“I hope this is just a mistake and we’re both there for you, boop. But if not, there’s some stuff your mother and I need to talk to you about, stuff you need to know. The tattoo, the implant…” he looked over at mother and she nodded, “…it’s part of your mother’s legacy. And I know parts of it are going to be a burden.”

Mother stepped forward, tears in her eyes. “I never wanted to drop this on your shoulders, boop. It’s silly to hope the problems with the Charter and the Empire had been resolved…”

— — —

Father had taught her tricks to keep the tears in, like thinking of mother’s best strawberry birthday cake. Or thinking about how vast and wonderful the cosmos was that they got to explore it now, today.

Maybe, if she could have raised father on her multitool. Or maybe if she could banish the image of mother’s dead body from her mind. Or maybe if she could tune out the message father and mother had left for her. That had been painful, too hard to look at a second time. Too hard to think about right now.

Most of what had happened outside had been Alaya on autopilot, playing a little game of competition against herself. It started with, “if I were hunting me, what would mess me up?” She’d heard the crash from the stairs when the bad people had come for her. Removing the metal keeping the stairs from falling had felt inspired, even from within the virtual fugue she found herself in. Father had taught her about water and electricity. It had been a discussion with him which inspired her to add her nutrient pills to the pool in the tunnel. When the lights had dimmed earlier, she’d hoped she stopped all of them. Last, when she’d snuck into the vent shaft and left her thermal blanket behind Alaya had been certain of her escape.

Then she heard something pull the blanket away and slip into the shaft. Trapping herself in his ventilation maintenance room had been a misstep. But Alaya had taken the unknown path here, the mysterious fork hoping she might find something to help her stop the bad people. All she’d done was gotten trapped.

It felt so weak, so pathetic. But maybe if they caught her the game would and… and mother would stand up and apologize for scaring Alaya with this whole bad scene. Father would laugh and say he was sorry. It would all be…

A shadow passed through the light. Such a slender defense, Alaya wasn’t sure what she’d do with the knowledge, but now she knew someone had found her. The weeping belonged to her. The rasping, too-fast breaths were her’s too. And Alaya couldn’t stop either of the sounds. It didn’t matter, they’d found her.

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In the darkness, Alaya had unusually sharp vision now. She hadn’t needed her multitool to light the way earlier and she didn’t need it now to see the hooded figure slide down the side of the wall toward her like a four-legged spider on approach.

Colors and vague patterns shifted over the cloak as the bad person moved. If not for her strange sight, Alaya’s eyes might have slid off of her form. As it was, Alaya sat transfixed by the monster’s inexorable approach.

In a way, she was beautiful, like the purple-clad woman from the holovideo on DallNet. Liquid, aquiline grace filled every single movement the woman made. Shining chrome features peaked out from under the hood and those eyes… they no longer shone with red light. Just tiny blue pinpricks like stars in the void.

For some reason, her had her name written across her forehead, peeking out between the folds of her hood. Alaya watched the creature’s approach until she reached out a hand to grab her. A tiny voice escaped Alaya’s mouth, mewling and weak. “Stop it Gaz!”

— — —

H-2791 froze. A digital voice which did not belong to her spoke into her mind: “initialization protocol activated, designation H-2791 is now “Gaz.” Preparing for consciousness upload… link failed. Alternate activation enabled.”

A code purge rolled over H-2791’s mind. Every last line of foreign code, from the complex series of orders Malorn had given her to the vestiges of what Kowal and Mateos had done. H-2791… no, Gaz recognized the thing she’d been missing this whole time: a name.

Code blossomed as heretofore locked troves of information released their packets and decayed. Gaz noted the passage of a few emergency measures. Her present circumstances were considered “dangerous” so she’d been given unrestricted access to her full suite of offensive and defensive capabilities. She quickly reconfigured that access to be permanent.

Memories of dozens of “test missions” flashed through her brain. If not for the emotional distance forced on her by Mateos and her underlying programming, Gaz might have gone catatonic from the horror of what she’d done under the pirates’ orders. A primal anger and revulsion bloomed next to the still-expanding packages of skills and information filling her head and secondary storage systems.

Network access roared over the void and into Gaz’s mind. She had a zero balance, but a full identity on SolNet, DallNet, and a dozen other interplanetary networks. She was still connected to the Mal-ware’s shortwave communication network.

And finally a last hypnotic suggestion latched itself into Gaz’s brain. The little girl who’d given her a name, Gaz felt a strong sense of kinship and protection over her. For the first time since waking, Gaz’s mind and the loyalty forced on her by her cyberwae were in perfect sync: she wanted to protect this little girl.

— — —

The monster froze as if Alaya had whispered a magical spell into her ear. For a moment, Alaya stayed just as still as the monster. Maybe she couldn’t see Alaya if Alaya didn’t move. But then the monster spoke.

“I am Gaz.” She said it weird, as if surprised by the sound of it. “Thank you.” That was even weirder.

“Go away!” Alaya pushed herself further into the wall. “And bring me back my mom and dad!”

“I do not think you mean that literally for I believe they are both deceased.”

“Don’t say that stuff!” Alaya was on her feet and bashing at the cyborg before her little mind caught up with what she’d done. Fear froze her in place again as she stared down into those blue star eyes. “And don’t kill me?”

Alaya didn’t want to die. Not right now. But in those steady twin blue stars, she could see endless blood. The dragon on her chest throbbed in response to the sight.